SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 208 | Next

Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"A Girl of the Limberlost"

I thought it was some
deadly, stinging, biting thing. A body does have to be mighty careful
here. But likely I've spilt the milk now. Pshaw! She can find another!
There's no use to be foolish. Maybe moths are like snakes, where there's
one, there are two."
Mrs. Comstock took the broom and swept the moth out of the door. Then
she got down on her knees and carefully examined the steps, logs and
the earth of the flower beds at each side. She found the place where
the creature had emerged from the ground, and the hard, dark-brown case
which had enclosed it, still wet inside. Then she knew Elnora had been
right. It was a moth. Its wings had been damp and not expanded. Mrs.
Comstock never before had seen one in that state, and she did not know
how they originated. She had thought all of them came from cases spun on
trees or against walls or boards. She had seen only enough to know that
there were such things; as a flash of white told her that an ermine was
on her premises, or a sharp "buzzzzz" warned her of a rattler.
So it was from creatures like that Elnora had secured her school money.
In one sickening sweep there rushed into the heart of the woman a full
realization of the width of the gulf that separated her from her child.
Lately many things had pointed toward it, none more plainly than when
Elnora, like a reincarnation of her father, had stood fearlessly before
a large city audience and played with even greater skill than he, on
what Mrs.


Pages:
196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220